


God, Save Me From Morons.

by Kazansky (TWolves51)



Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Gen, potential
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4231251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWolves51/pseuds/Kazansky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A familiar face returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	God, Save Me From Morons.

It wasn’t until a year later that Maverick saw Iceman again. It wasn’t because he was teaching and it wasn’t when he was flying. It just simply happened, like flash rain and flash thunderstorms, and it wasn’t predictable. 

Maverick was flying. On the ground. His motorcycle buzzing beneath him, his short hair straining at the gel he had imprisoned it in that morning. Charlie was a hurt zipping through his veins, making drive faster, harder. The image, forever burnt in his mind, her writhing form and the faceless aviator. The speedometer went up to eighty. 

Mav wanted to punch something, to yell in anger until the sky fell and moon crashed into the sea. In this moment he wasn’t Maverick, the aviator; Maverick, the teacher. He was simply Pete Mitchell, small and hurt, driving down a lonely highway. The speedometer dropped to forty and then twenty, as he pulled onto a side lane, and finally to zero as he stopped the bike at the edge of a strip of beach that only he and Goose had known about.

Pete sighed and almost slid off the bike in weary acceptance. His legs were wobbly and trembling as he took careful steps to the sand and sat down. He looked up at the silver dropped expanse of deep blue above him and wished he was up there. Oxygen mask across his face, Goose’s familiar voice behind him, darting from cloud to cloud. He felt old, old as the sand beneath him, and tired the bone deep weariness of the brokenhearted. He leaned back and stretched out his legs, the sand was warm and soft and he felt himself drifting off. 

“Wasn’t expecting to see anyone here.” The familiar clipped tones made Mav’s (because he wasn’t Pete at this moment) eyes shoot open. 

“Ice? What the hell?” Maverick sat up and watched Ice step the couple more steps until he standing next to Mav. 

“It’s a free country?” Iceman’s voice had a smirk hidden somewhere in there. 

“You know that’s not what I meant, damn you.” Mav could feel his blood begin to quicken at the old sense of rivalry and competition. 

“I’m stationed on a carrier that just pulled into harbor.” Ice sat down, as if Mav had offered. 

“No, why are you here on this piece of beach, this is my piece of beach.” Mav was disgusted at the possessive petulant tone in his voice.

“Don’t be anymore of a child than you already are, Maverick.” Iceman smirked this time, not trying to hide it. “I was walking the shore line, if you care that much. The question is why are you here without that lovely lady of yours? You’d think, with such private piece of beach...”

Mav didn’t answer, instead he let the silence hang in the air like a thick stifling rain cloud. He looked down the beach at the black water and the blinking lights of the Naval Base and let Ice come to his own conclusions. 

“What’d she do? Dump you?” Ice’s voice was like a mirror, shiny and reflective.

“Without telling me.” Mav’s voice was quiet and controlled. 

“She cheated on you.” It wasn’t even a question. Mav nodded.

“With one of the new students.” Mav’s face was blank.

“Fuck.” The word was whispered in a kind of surprised that wasn’t all that surprised because it was Iceman, and he didn’t do surprised.

Mav didn’t reply. He stood up brushed himself off and without another word hopped back on his bike and rode home. The speedometer didn’t drop below sixty the whole way.

~

Maverick saw Iceman the next day. He was picking up the last of his things from Charlie’s place, and trying to school his features into something other than a glowering mess. He strapped the last box down on to the small trailer attached to the motorcycle and straightened up. Ice was watching him from the other side.

“What do you want, Ice?” Mav was tired, he wanted a beer and his day off. 

“When was the last time you went flying?” Ice asked, ignoring the previous question. 

“Couple months, six or seven. I haven’t really had the chance. Jester usually takes the kids up for maneuvers and stuff.” Mav scrubbed a hand across his face. “Why?”

“Come.” Was all Ice replied, then turned and stalked off as though he expected Mav to be on his heels. Deliberation passed across Mav’s face then he followed.

~

They ended up on the Ice's carrier ship. Mav’s face trying to hide the confusion as they walked up the gangplank. 

“Why am I here?” Maverick asked, Iceman answered by shoving a flight suit into his arms. 

“Put that on.”

“What? Why?” Maverick knew why. He knews he should be up in the air flying and free, unhindered by the bounds of gravity. His blood began the familiar rhythm in his veins. His expression changed and he felt his muscles relax. Ice smirked at his expression.

“Come on, flyboy.” Maverick followed, not two steps behind, yanking on the flight suit as he went. 

It was beautiful, to be in a plane again. Better than sex (with Charlie), better than alcohol, better than drugs. The jet thrummed beneath him its twin engines vibrating his hand were the held the stick shift. He smiled in absolute contentment as he twisted the plane through a three-sixty, the RIO behind him clutched at his seat for a second. 

“I can hear your smile, Maverick.” Iceman said through the com, the unseen radio waves passing between their planes. 

“Fuck Iceman, they should call you ‘Hearing Aid.’” Maverick retorted, still smiling. He could not be annoyed at Ice for bringing him back to this. His home. The clouds, the memories, his everything. 

They stayed in the air for an hour, zipping to and fro in a never ending almost nauseating, dance. Eventually, they were called back in. Mav landed his plane smoothly and slid out of the cockpit onto the landing stripe. He shook hands with the RIO and turned to watch Iceman fly in, landing neatly and parking, just so. Mav waited until Iceman had thanked his substitute for Slider, then went over. 

“As much as it hurts to say this, Hearing Aid,” Mav grinned. “but thanks for being my wingman.”

“Its cool, as long as you know that you were my wingman.” Ice grinned right back. 

“Fuck you.” Mav said, then, considering for a second . “You wanna grab some beer at my place?”

“As long as I can use your shower.” Ice said as they began walking toward the gangplank. Then Mav stopped.

“What do I do with this?” He gestured down at his fly gear. 

“Take it off. I’ll dump it on our way out.” Ice held out a hand. Mav stripped off the belt and harness, putting it in Ice’s open palm. Who in turn handed it off to a passing crewman.

Then the two headed down the gangplank and into the open arms of the road beyond.      

             

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.  
> Let me know if you think this should go slash.


End file.
